


It's all for you

by cyran9



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Solavellan - Fandom
Genre: Angst, F/M, Solavellan, solavellan hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-28
Updated: 2016-11-28
Packaged: 2018-09-02 19:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8679643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyran9/pseuds/cyran9
Summary: Anon prompt - Weird question, but how do you think Solas would react to finding out a romanced Lavellan had died?





	

**Author's Note:**

> Inspiration - @nipuni “A goddess of his own” - http://nipuni.tumblr.com/post/147466065940/a-goddess-of-his-own
> 
> Soundtrack - Black Lab - “Part of me - Live” …seriously, this ripped me apart. - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1Lwh-JToU74

He held the note in his trembling hand, the words blurring before his eyes,his knuckles turning white from the death grip he held on the back of his faded favorite chair. 

“No…” he shook his head, a vain attempt to unsee Cullen’s words on the parchment as unshed tears blurred the world around him. 

_I’m sorry to write this….we were overrun…so many casualties…she fought to the last breath…_

Solas pressed his fist to his lips, fighting against the urge to scream as he bit upon his knuckle, the sharp pain a reminder that this was real. He was awake. This was not a dream. It felt as if the world around him was falling away from beneath his feet.

_The Inquisitor fell on the field….her last words were for you….’Ar lath ma, vhenan’….so sorry for your loss…_

The note crumbled in his fingers as he leaned over his desk, all strength lost. 

_Not her…it could not be true!_

_Take anyone!_ he wanted to scream _, but not her!_

A primal urge tore through him and with a lightning quick gesture he sent the chair skidding across the floor and the desk was violently overturned, flying against the far wall and shattering. All voices in the library above him fell silent. The ravens in the rookery silenced their caws and he could feel all eyes upon him. 

“Solas?” A soft, calming voice laden with sorrow called out to him from the doorway. 

“Leave me, Master Tethras. You can give no comfort here.” His words were acid on his parched tongue and his heart was as lifeless as ash. Varric and all the others silently disappeared like ghosts. 

Solas stood silent, fighting the depth of nothingness that was creeping upon him and would soon consume him. He would yield willingly when the time came. He would return to what he had been before _her_ , a man without a home, and _this_ …, he looked around the rotunda at the frescoes of her deeds - all these stolen moments with her…would become nothing but hazy memories adrift in the fade. She would become the wisp among the ether of the dead that haunted his dreams.  

But not yet. No, not yet. His work was not done. 

He looked up at the painted frescoes in scorn and he burned with hate for all that he saw. All these deeds done for the Inquisition, deeds that would mean nothing in a centuries time. It would not do. She was more than noble deeds and a mention in the history books. He grabbed his brushes and his paints and threw them atop the scaffold, his brushes scattering loudly. He fetched scouring water from the kitchens, carrying it to the top of the scaffold where he began to bleach away the colors of her deeds with a sponge and his bare hands. Great hues of russet reds, pine greens, royal blues, and elegant golds melted at his touch and poured in rivers to the floor, creating a murky swath of waste that flowed down the stairs and under the crack of the door that led into the courtyard. 

The work was backbreaking but the pain gave him something to focus upon and it gave him strength when he felt he had none. His work done, the walls laid bare once more, he picked up his paintbrush, blending a color that perfectly matched her eyes, and began again. 

With tedious detailed strokes she began to come alive again, rending his heart anew. “I can barely remember my life without you” he whispered to her, blending the delicate arch of her brow upon the smooth wall, a brow that had so often arched in amusement during their intimate moments.

Peachy rose paint stained his brush as he carefully shaded the bow of her lips, lips he had never imagined he would never kiss again when he kissed her last. These lips that had kissed him and given him so many reasons to smile in the past year, he could draw them from memory and remember every curve. “In time, the others will forget you. They will forget your name. But not me. No, I will never forget. I am the one who will live on, who can recount what we have lost, vhenan....and you will live on, I promise. I will paint over the world with pictures of you.” 

When he was done he wiped the sweat from his brow and let his brush fall from his fingers. He looked upon his work and nodded in resignation. It was done. 

She was bathed in radiant light, ivory and gold and sunkissed amber, guarded by ancient wolves just like the Emerald Knights. 

Solas leaned his forehead against the cold wall, his fingers balled up into fists as he said his last goodbye. One more farewell to add to his list of losses. There was nothing left here for him. 

“You changed everything. You changed me. Vhenan…” his voice cracked, the emotion threatening to choke him, but he had to tell her. His fingers caressed her visgae upon the wall one last time. 

“When I dream, it will always be of you.”

His work done, Solas was gone. Leliana noted that the apostate had disappeared as quietly as he had appeared and none of her agents had been able to find him. There were rumors that reached them of new frescoes being sighted in old Elven ruins, all bearing a striking resemblance to the Herald of Andraste and painted with loving care, but the artist was unknown. Each report that came in was neatly folded and tucked away into Josephine’s desk per Cassandra’s orders. “Those are holy places now, marked by grief. They shall not be disturbed. We owe him that much.”

The Inquisitor’s remains lie in state in the rotunda within Skyhold, lovingly lain to rest beneath a fresco of her likeness, and adorned as the Herald of Andraste for all to see and pay homage to. So she will lie, until the world lies in ashes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Black Lab "Part of me" lyrics
> 
> Lyrics - 
> 
> "Part Of Me"
> 
> I want you so badly my bones start to ache.  
> I’m in equal parts wonder and pain.  
> There’s a part of me.  
> There’s a part of me that just   
> Wants what it wants and that’s all it can do.  
> Could I let go of having your love?   
> Could the longing itself be enough?   
> There’s a part of me.  
> The very heart of me   
> That can barely remember my life without you.  
> And this fear this pain this love this weight   
> This joy your slave lays his head down.  
> I dream and it’s all for you.  
> Bear the tension of tears held at bay.  
> It’s the main thing I do with my days.  
> There’s a part of me.  
> There’s a part of me   
> Painting over the world with these pictures of you.  
> I can’t even pretend to be strong.  
> I get up and I shake like a dog.  
> You’re the part of me.  
> The very heart of me.  
> In the language of love there is no word for no.  
> So bring this fear this pain this love this weight   
> This fight your slave lays his head down.  
> I dream and it’s all for you.


End file.
